Traditional Curses
by conclusivelead
Summary: In which Arthur is a Frog Prince and Merlin isn’t quite comfortable with the Concept of Kissing an Amphibian until said Amphibian is a Prince again. Then he’s more than comfortable. Crack!AU. "You do realize you must be a Frog for a reason, right?"


**Title**: Do the Contracts of Traditional Curses Allow for These Kinds of Exceptions?  
**Author**: conclusivelead.  
**Beta**: burningwhisper.  
**Pairing**: Merlin/Arthur.  
**Rating**: Hard R; NC17 for anyone squeamish about almost-sex.  
**Word Count**: ~4,000.  
**Warnings**: A transfigured Arthur, a blissfully unaware top!Merlin, crack!tastic fluff, and PWP.

**Notes**: This is the most cracktastic PWP ever to pour forth from my brain. I don't know what happened; I was finishing up my reel_merlin fic and all of a sudden I thought, "Frog princes. Arthur's a prince. O_O" And it began. It was completely not under my control.

**Summary**: "'You do realize you must be a Frog for a reason, right?' Merlin asked. In which Arthur is a Frog Prince and Merlin isn't quite comfortable with the Concept of Kissing an Amphibian until said Amphibian is a Prince again. Then he's more than comfortable. AU.

**Do the Contracts of Traditional Curses Allow for These Kinds of Exceptions?**  
– "_I believe in everything until it's disproved. So I believe in fairies, the myths, dragons. It all exists, even if it's in your mind. Who's to say that dreams and nightmares aren't as real as the here and now?_"  
– John Lennon.

Once upon a time, there lived a boy named Arthur.

Arthur, while not a Prince, per say, was prone to very Princely behavior, and had, over the years, become very accustomed to getting his way.

So it was, one must understand, very infuriating when Merlin Emrys, the object of Arthur's long-felt affection, refused to even spare him a passing glance.

And it must be understood that Arthur did pretty much everything he could think of to gain said attention: tripping him at market, teasing him for being so gangly… He did it all, but Merlin was just so oblivious; it was beginning to seem like he'd never notice Arthur's undying devotion.

In fact, years passed before Arthur was able to come up with a plan that was devious enough for him to end up – ahem – on top. Unfortunately, this plan involved assistance from his stepsister Morgana, who had been training in witchcraft since they were very young. Also unfortunately, Morgana was not exactly…fond of her stepbrother, so getting her to help him out involved quite a bit of bribery.

And in the end…well, let's just say things didn't exactly work out exactly as planned.

-

Merlin hadn't stopped believing in things, like all the other boys his age. That, said his mum, is what made him so very different from her friend's children and her sister's children and even the children of the witch down on Camelot Street.

Merlin had always believed in things. It was sort of an inconvenient habit, really, of which he just hadn't ever been broken. It wasn't like he did it on purpose – it was mostly an instinct that he wasn't sure could ever truly be stifled. He'd tried it once and bad luck had found one way or another to torment him. After the missing money and the forgotten science tests and especially the forgotten algebra tests, Merlin decided that enough was enough and believed again.

Once he started believing again, the bad luck went straight away, just as he'd known it would. Instead of having the electricity go out every time he decided to plop down on the sofa for a movie, it would turn out his favorite comedy was coming on BBC. Merlin immediately decided that the rewards for belief meant too much and knew that, no matter what he told his mother about dragons and unicorns, he'd not stop believing again.

There were, however, always consequences to the whole believing thing, too. The good stuff came with some bad stuff, too - mostly in the form of Arthur Pendragon.

Arthur Pendragon was the son of the witch down on Camelot Street - or at least, Merlin supposed she was a witch. She was always tottering around in all-black and a big, wide-brimmed hat, and Merlin suspected that the witch's daughter, Morgana, was well-trained in magic, too. Maybe not well enough to do anything so very awe-inspiring, but Merlin thought he remembered seeing Morgana change her carrot sticks into peppermint sticks once when they were both very young.

So in this instance, Merlin's believing was well-substantiated for the most part.

Even so, Arthur Pendragon seemed to had made it his own personal goal in life to drive Merlin crazy. And he was doing a rather bang-up job. Everywhere Merlin went, he looked over his shoulder (even though this usually resulted in him tripping over Arthur's outstretched foot.) Arthur was very good at giving Merlin grief, but the dark-haired boy was very good at ignoring Arthur.

It was some years after he returned to believing that he first met the Frog.

Secondary school was done with, and he was in that pleasant space between finishing with the things his mum wanted him to finish and deciding just what he wanted to do with the rest of his life when it happened.

Merlin was a good son, and one of the duties of a good son was errand-running.

This particular duty was being fulfilled for the millionth time since the black-haired teen had gotten old enough to walk to the city grocer and back unaccompanied; and it was pretty much a day like any other day in Albion: bright, sunny, and boring.

It was on this rather unremarkable sunny day that Merlin found himself glancing over his shoulder to make sure Arthur wasn't about to sneak up behind him and drop worms down his collar and subsequently tripped over something tiny and talkative. The groceries went everywhere, but Merlin, being something of an animal-lover, was more concerned with the well being of whatever it was he'd just got his feet tangled around.

"Oh, damn," he said, eyeing the Frog that had somehow sent him flying two feet forward and several feet downward apologetically. "I'm terribly sorry."

The Frog glared up in his general direction with multicolored, amphibious eyes and said, "You better be, you bumbling idiot; you nearly squashed me just then!"

Merlin wasn't particularly surprised by this.

Somehow he'd always known that something would come of his believing, but he'd been waiting for such a long time for the grand event to finally arrive that it was more a relief to learn that Frog could talk than anything else.

Sure, there were a couple of other, less important emotions swirling around inside that skull of his – dismay, curiosity, and something confusingly similar to nausea – but he promptly forgot about them when Frog opened his wide, slimy mouth again and issued forth a loud and seemingly involuntary RIBBIT.

There was a short silence as Merlin processed these thoughts and the Frog's eyes focused more clearly as he reoriented himself in his surroundings. "Oh, it's you."

This did surprised Merlin. "What?" he asked, blinking rapidly.

Frog cleared his throat and wiped the back of his webbed hand across his wide mouth. "Oh, uh…nothing. Wh-what was it you said?"

Merlin was silent for a moment. "I-I'm terribly sorry," he repeated, more slowly this time. He climbed quickly to his hands and knees and scuffled forward so that he could look more directly into Frog's squishy face. "It most definitely was not done on purpose."

"Whether it was done on purpose or not," Frog pronounced, voice distinctly male and also distinctly arrogant, "it was still extremely unfair to me. What if you had gone and squashed me? I can't very well just walk into hospital, now can I?"

Merlin cocked his head to the side, considering. "I suppose not."

"You suppose correctly," Frog assured, his big, squishy eyes blinking insistently. "Well? What have you to say for yourself?"

"Other than sorry?" Merlin asked, sitting back on his heels to ponder. "Well…nothing except to say that my name is Merlin Emrys and I'd very much like to know whether you're a permanent Frog whom can talk or if you're a temporary Frog whom can talk."

Frog looked taken aback, and his yellowish eyes widened and his mouth gaped. Merlin thought he looked very much like a fish just then, but didn't want to be rude by mentioning it.

"I…I don't know," Frog replied finally.

Merlin made a point to remain silent, hoping that none of the surely offensive things swimming around inside his head made their way out into the audible plane.

"I'm…not…sure," Frog repeated, raising a webbed toe to his wide, amphibious lips and mouthing at it unconsciously, eyes going all squinty as he thought over his conundrum.

"Do you have a name, Frog?"

"Other than Frog?" Frog asked sarcastically, echoing Merlin's earlier query. "I would think so, but I, uh – I can't quite remember just now."

"Hmm; well that is a bit of a problem, isn't it?" Merlin nodded sympathetically and straightened his neckerchief, which had gone askew in the near-collision. "There's nothing for it, I suppose. Have you tried getting a beautiful maiden to kiss you?"

Frog eyed him warily, but hopped forward a couple of paces nonetheless. "What are you on about, beanpole?"

Merlin ignored the insult ('How can a Frog Prince be such a prat?' he asked himself silently) and continued, "In my experience – which is admittedly very, well, almost nonexistent – the only reason a Frog can ever speak is because he's actually a transfigured prince in disguise. And everyone knows the only way to solve a problem like that is to have a beautiful maiden kiss you."

Frog looked torn somewhere between annoyed and confused. "I don't understand; how will that solve anything?"

Merlin crossed his arms and got a little more comfortable. This looked as though it might take a while. Not that he minded, of course – this was all rather thrilling.

Talking Frogs didn't hop along every day, now did they?

"Getting a kiss from a beautiful maiden will change you back into a man again. If, indeed, you were a man in the first place."

"Something very definitely tells me that I am most certainly not meant to be a Frog," asserted Frog glumly. "And something also very definitely tells me that maybe this isn't a good idea, after all."

"Well, that settles it," Merlin finalized cheerfully, reaching out and taking Frog into the palm of his hand amidst loud protest on the part of said amphibian.

"Weren't you listening to a word I just said?" Frog demanded. "Maybe we, uh, should – should try something else."

Merlin arched an eyebrow. "Like what?"

"I don't know," admitted the Frog. "Maybe you could just kiss me instead."

Merlin blanched. "What?"

"Yes," said Frog, sounded pleased. "Perhaps that would just be for the best."

"But I know a girl-"

"Oh, really. And who would that be?"

"Well…actually, I don't really know a girl. Not very well. Just – there's this girl named Gwen…"

Frog glared and tapped his long toes impatiently. "And you're positive this girl will help me…you…us…out?"

Merlin blinked several times. "Well, I really only know two girls here well enough that asking might now be taken the completely wrong way. There's Gwen, who I've known since primary school, and then there's Morgana-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Frog interrupted, looking torn somewhere between feeling absolutely panicked and absolutely ill. "This Gwen girl sounds lovely! Off we go, and if you drop me I'll make you wish you were never born."

And so they were off to find the fair maiden Gwen and, hopefully, some sort of attitude adjustment for Frog.

As Merlin made his way deeper into Ealdor with Frog in tow, he thought back on the few memories he had of Gwen from when they were young children. He seemed to remember she was lovely – he'd had something of a crush on her when they were much younger – but he hadn't actively initiated any sort of conversation deeper than perhaps a short, "Hallo, then, Gwen!"as they passed one another on the way home from market in several years.

As he stood before Gwen's tiny home on Camelot Street, contemplating just how to go about asking a girl he hardly knew any longer to kiss a rather temperamental toad, Frog made sure that Merlin was aware of his opinion on absolutely everything.

On the subject of the uneven stone streets: "How old-fashioned is this place, really? Haven't you people heard of pavement?"

(Merlin: …)

On the subject of the tiny store owned by the witch of Camelot Street: "Pshaw. Witchcraft? Bollocks."

(Merlin: …)

On the subject of the hedges lining Gwen's yard: "Bloody hell, when's the last time those monsters were trimmed? A Poor Frog could put his eye out on them brambles, he could."

(Merlin: …)

While Frog went on and on about this and that, Merlin pushed open the creaky gate that led into the (okay, not perfectly-kept) yard and took a few hesitant steps forward. He really had no idea how to approach this. How did one approach a girl and ask her to please do a lad a favor and give my froggy friend here a big wet one?

Hmm; a conundrum, indeed.

A loud laugh from somewhere inside the small house interrupted Merlin's thoughts. Panicking, he ducked behind the sole tree in the yard. Luckily, it was just wide enough to conceal his slim form.

"I say, what **are** you doing?" demanded Frog, a yellow eye riveting upward to pin Merlin with a severe gaze.

"Erm…um…hiding."

"Why?" Frog sounded annoyed.

"Because…I'm not really sure how exactly to do this."

Frog quieted down for a minute, and they sat there and stared at each other a bit, Merlin's blue eyes focusing in on Frog's yellow ones. "Yes, I can see how that would be…awkward. Here, I've got a thought; how about you get us inside and then…then let me do the talking."

Merlin's eyebrows shot up. "Do you really think that'd be best? Don't you think that if I just sort of…whip you out, she might be a little…?"

Frog snorted. "Nonsense. It's a brilliant plan."

Merlin sat back on his heels and looked doubtful. "I don't know…"

Frog snorted again, and began a long, croaky speech about why Merlin should just listen to him.

Merlin tried his best to drown out Frog's incessant chatter and instead decided that the best way to proceed with things was, perhaps, to just dive right in. He turned to Frog and said, "Shut it, now, I'm going to knock" and then promptly deposited him in his coat pocket.

"Merlin? Is that you?"

Frog let out a loud noise of surprise that was somewhere between a RIBBIT and a CROAK. Merlin just squeaked and whipped about, coming face-to-face with a very, very confused Gwen. She looked like she'd just gotten back from market. Standing a couple of feet behind her was Morgana, another girl Merlin had basic acquaintance with. While Gwen looked bewildered, though, Morgana looked absolutely amused.

"Um, uh…alright, Gwen?" Merlin stuttered, shoving his hand alongside Frog into his pocket.  
"What are you doing behind my tree, then, Merlin?" Gwen asked, staring pointedly at him. She didn't sound angry or even unfriendly, but she was definitely curious.

(Morgana chuckled.)

"Oh, um, nothing. Inspecting its, ah, its bark." Merlin's cheeks blushed bright red immediately.

Gwen deadpanned. "Um, what?"

"RIBBET," said Merlin's pocket.

"I say, what's that sound?" Gwen asked, looking at him strangely.

(Morgana practically fell over she was laughing so hard.)

"I'm not sure, actually; it did sound very odd indeed, though. You know, Gwen, I really do have to be going now, but, um, thank you for – for allowing me to observe…um…see you, then!"  
And with that Merlin turned tail and ran.

"That was the most pitiful display I've ever had the misfortune to witness," said Frog as soon as Merlin had deposited him on a tree stump and was trying to catch his breath somewhere a bit away from the civilization of town.

"Shut up," Merlin gasped, trying to catch his breath. "How was I supposed to ask her to kiss a frog after she caught me talking to myself in her front yard? She prolly thinks I'm right mad as it is; if I'd just brought you out, it would've made the situation worse than it needed to be."

"Oh, yes, that's alright for you, isn't it? But what about me? I'm stuck this way until I get a kiss from some bint, aren't I?" Frog sounded very put out indeed.

And Merlin supposed he couldn't really blame him. If he'd been magically transfigured into an amphibian, he'd probably be complaining, too.

"I don't deserve this, truly I don't," moaned Frog.

Merlin was silent a moment too long and Frog glared at him with his oversized eyes. "Don't you feel bad for me?"

"You do realize you must be a Frog for a reason, right?" Merlin asked.

Frog just blinked.

"What I'm saying is…well – it's not like a person'd go around transfiguring other people for no reason, yeah? So you must have done something wrong, or maybe-"

"Hold on, then," argued Frog, crossing his webbed little arms and sitting back. "Are you accusing me of being a Bad Person?"

Merlin blinked owlishly, mouth gaping open in surprise. "No, of course not!" he asserted, dismayed. "I'm just saying, maybe something happened-"

"Right, now you're in for it," Frog said, refusing to look at him. "As soon as I'm back to normal, I'm going to punch you right in the jaw. And I'm positive I'll be bigger than you!"

Merlin sat silently, unreasonably shamed.

"So what do we do?" asked Frog finally, after the silence had persisted for much too long and he was feeling like his pride had recovered enough to talk again.

"Well, we could go out and try again," Merlin suggested glumly, huddling under a tree.

Frog sighed. "I don't see this working. You just don't have the bollocks."

"Well, then, what?" Merlin queried.

There was another silence as Frog and Merlin thought over the situation.

Finally, Merlin gave a tentative, "Well…"

"Yes?" Frog asked, hopping down off the tree stump and making his way over to where Merlin sat.

"You're not going to like it," he warned.

Frog rolled his big yellow eyes. "Just tell me your idea."

"I was thinking…" Merlin said, looking away. "From what I've heard, maybe – maybe – it doesn't have to be a girl."

"What do you mean?"

"Maybe it doesn't have to be a girl that kisses you," he explained, pointedly not meeting Frog's stare.

"…didn't I already suggest that?!" Frog demanded. "We really should have just tried this right off the bat; all this meandering about trying to get a female with a pair of lips to pucker up has been a complete waste of time if it doesn't even have to be a girl!"

Merlin ducked his head. "Sorry. I don't know for sure."

"There's only one way to test that theory, I'd say."

"Right. Uh, right?"

"Well, then, get on with it," ordered Frog.

Merlin stared. "Sorry?"

"Get on with the kiss, then," Frog explained, puckering up his slimy lips.

Merlin cleared his throat, looking a little green. "Um, right," he managed, reaching out and allowing Frog to jump up into his palm.

"Come now, Merlin," the Frog said. "It's only fair."

While Merlin wasn't really sure just how this was fair in any regard when he'd already more than gone out of his way to try and help Frog out, but…well, there wasn't any backing down now. Especially after he'd messed up the one chance they'd ever have to get Frog a kiss from a Beautiful Maiden…or as close as Ealdor came to Beautiful Maidens, anyway.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"Get on with it," said the amphibian.

And with that, Merlin lowered his head and kissed the Frog.

For about a second, the texture of the skin beneath Merlin's lips was bumpy and slimy and most unpleasant. The next thing he knew, though, a rather heavy weight was crushing his hand and something smooth and dry and soft was moving against his lips instead.

"Ermf," said the newly un-transfigured Frog. "That was most unpleasant."

The grating, squeaky voice of Frog was gone, replaced by throaty, masculine tones. Merlin gulped loudly.

"Um," he told the extremely attractive, naked blond in his lap, "you're Arthur Pendragon."

Arthur blinked several times to clear his vision and then replied, "Yes."

Then Merlin said, "Arthur Pendragon."

"…yes."

"…you're squishing me."

"Oh…right." The man that used to be Frog sat back a little, hands balanced on Merlin's shoulders in an attempt to steady himself. "You look much…different…up close. Being a Frog really impairs your vision."

"Oh." Merlin didn't know what to say. He was more than a little distracted by the clench of ex-Frog's now very human thighs around his waist to say anything more articulate. "Um…"

"So how do you want to go about this, then?" asked the blond man, leaning in further and allowing his arms to slide about Merlin's neck until his elbows were locked and Merlin had to struggle to remember how to breathe.

"What…" Gulp. "…do you mean?"

Arthur's eyelashes fluttered, and Merlin noticed that they were blond, too, but long and thick. He gulped again, this time even more loudly than the last several times. "Hmm," answered Arthur slyly, tilting his head to the side and dragging his lips oh-so-slowly over the sharp curve of cheekbone and then up, ghosting over his closed eye. Merlin made a strangled noise. "I lied about it all. I've known who I am since the beginning, but you've never given me the time of day before so I had to go to…er…lengths…to get you to pay attention."

Merlin squeaked.

"And you were wrong from the beginning, Merlin."

"About…what…exactly?" the dark-haired young man managed to gasp out, hands sliding up to grip at Arthur's back.

Arthur's lips were now tracing the curve of his jaw up to his ear, where Arthur exhaled heavily, hotly. "A Beautiful Maiden wasn't ever the answer."

The muscular blond began swiveling his hips slowly and Merlin groaned. "Damn…" he wheezed, hands scrabbling at the naked man's back and heart fluttering in his chest. "Shit."

But then Arthur tangled a hand in the hair at the nape of Merlin's neck and tugged, and Merlin didn't have to say anything else because his lips were quite too busy doing dirty things to Arthur's lips, and there was moaning and scrabbling and the tree was digging into Merlin's back.

Merlin dragged his nails across the naked flesh of Arthur's back, further and further until his hands gripped his ass and he pressed him down hard, thrusting his own hips up and trying desperately to get closer. Taking the cue, Arthur tugged Merlin's shirt halfway up and then they both struggled together to get it past his rather large ears. Finally it tugged free, and they were skin to skin.

Merlin groaned raggedly at the feel of his cock rubbing against Arthur's ass, and Arthur began to thrust downward into the taller boy's lap, searching for any kind of consistent friction…

And when Morgana and Gwen just "happened" to stumble upon their little hide-away several minutes later, they couldn't help but notice the absolutely satisfied looks on both boys' face.

Of course Morgana burst into hysterical laughter while Gwen blushed a bright, furious red.

But that's another story. For now, all that you need to know is that they lived happily ever after.

THE END.

(=D Told you it was crack.)


End file.
